The Promise of Lace (9 page)

Some woman had taught him this. Maybe it wasn’t just the
lady’s underwear that had made him shy. Maybe he was a little bit kinky, a
little bit subby and wasn’t sure how to ask a girl to make a few demands.

So we had both lucked out, because I could definitely do
that.

His fingertips were going to leave bruises all over my
ass,
there was no getting around it now. He was bouncing a
little on his knees, like he was trying to thrust into or against something but
couldn’t because I’d told him not to.

I rubbed my thumb affectionately behind his ear.

“You are so good at this, baby,” I sighed.

He moaned and I tugged at his hair. His hips jerked against
nothing.

“You are so good at this that I think if I let you use your
fingers, I could come twice.”

He dropped his forehead to my right thigh, panting like a
black haired dog in the sun. I pulled his hair again, just to hear the sound
that he made when I did. “And I think once I do, I’ll be able to really
concentrate on you.”

He looked up at me. “Okay,” he managed.

I probably could have come from that. His cheeks were red.
His eyes were lust drunk. His voice was
wrecked
.

I pulled his hands from my hips and he flexed his fingers
like they might be stiff before he reached between my legs and slid one finger
easily into my hot, wet core. He curved it upwards and my toes curled as he
brushed my g-spot. He pushed a little harder and my head dropped back, resting
on the couch back.

“Roxanne?”

“Don’t make me push your head back down,” I replied, trying
not to laugh at how faux sweet I sounded. We were playing a little domination
game and even after only knowing each other for two weeks, we were both
winning.

He brought his mouth back down to my crux. He pulled his
finger out and slipped two back inside me. I groaned a little at the pressure.
I was wet and ready and it wasn’t nearly enough. He was working expertly
against my g-spot: thrusting into it,
then
brushing
over it, thrusting inside me purposefully, but not ramrodding in like he was
trying to break down a castle door during a siege. And on top of it, there was
his tongue’s constant attention to my clit. He was going down on me like he
didn’t even
need
air, gasping and
squirming because he was turned on by getting me off, and unable to do anything
to curb the feelings in his own body because I’d said so.

The tight warm feeling in my stomach was pulsing now,
beating like a drum, running further and further through my body.

“Harder,” I ordered.

He gasped, thrust in harder and pressed his tongue tight to
me. I rocked up into his mouth and worked myself down on his hand. I wrapped my
hand around his neck, dug my fingers hard into his shoulder and came hard. I
felt like my entire body had blown a fuse.

He whimpered and kept lapping at me.

I pushed him away and he looked up at me, wide eyed. “What
about round two?”

“I changed my mind. Get up here.” I patted the spot next to
me on the couch.

He sucked in air like he had just surfaced from the bottom
of a lake and scrambled up next to me. He leaned in to kiss me and I set my
hands at his hips and pushed him back down. He reached for the panties, then
stopped and looked up at me.
Again for permission.

Oh yeah. I was already thinking about keeping this one
around.

I shook my head. He bucked against my hips at first, but forced
himself to stand still.

“Sit,” I said softly.
“Feet on the floor.”

He got off his knees, dropping his butt down onto the couch.
He slid his legs out and dropped his feet onto my thick rug, digging his toes
into the high pile.

I easily swung myself over him so that I was straddling him
again. He gulped.

I took just a moment to appreciate the scene. His hands
knotted in his own hair, head craned back, neck exposed. And me, naked, sweaty,
flushed with the orgasm I’d already had, perched on his knees.

He was staring at me. Red-cheeked, half smiling, breathing
hard, eyes glazed over in arousal.

“You like to be told what to do, don’t you, Dieter,” I said.
I pressed my mouth to his ear as I spoke. I felt him shiver against me.

“I do,” he panted. “When it’s like this. When we’re together
like this.”

I grinned and kissed him, dropping my hand between us. I ran
my thumb along the hard line of his cock and felt his whole body spasm
underneath me.

“Are you going to blow me now?” he asked, smiling and
breathy. I feathered my fingers back down his length and I could feel the
tremors that the teasing touch caused to run down his body.

“I’m
gonna
get there,” I told him.
He shivered. I like watching him like this. Liked the thought of making him
shake and mutter underneath me.
Liked the thought of having
him practically in thrall to me.
I stopped teasing and squeezed his cock
hard in my fist. He bucked up so hard he nearly knocked me off of him.

“Really need this, don’t you?”

His answer wasn’t so much
words
as
it was spluttering.

I took pity.

I worked my way down to the floor, aware that there was no
way of really making the move graceful or sexy.

Dieter obviously didn’t care. He looked like he was in
genuine danger of biting his bottom lip off. His arms were shaking behind his
head.

I kissed my way up his thighs. The hair sprinkled across
them was just like the hair on his chest: dark and wiry. It made the fact that
he was shaved clean underneath the panties even more odd. His hips were working
up into the air as I kissed my way to the prize, pushing his knees further
apart as I moved my tongue out against the sensitive skin just to feel him
shiver.

He groaned when I reached the fold of his leg. I touched the
tip of my tongue just outside the pretty lace trim of the leg hole and he
pulled his hands out of his hair and dropped them around my shoulders. I put my
mouth to the base of his cock. The fabric was bizarrely smooth on my lips and I
almost laughed as I slid my mouth up the shaft and he started swearing under his
breath.

I placed my mouth over where the tip was straining against
the fabric and he made a terrible noise—like a lion being squashed by a falling
building halfway through its roar.

I smiled around his lace wrapped cockhead.

I felt
powerful
.

He was shaking and gasping and digging his fingers into my
shoulder so hard that I could feel the crescent moon outlines of his
fingernails in the skin around my scapula. I sucked gently. He hissed breath
out through his teeth. It made me feel just a little bad about what I was
planning to do to him.

 
I cupped his balls in
my hands, rubbing and rolling them gently as I started to use my tongue. I was
going to get everything wet first. Between my working mouth and his dribbling
cock, his panties were as wet as I wanted them to be in minutes. His thighs
were shaking under my hands and he was trying to stroke my hair but his hands
kept spasming, grabbing my hair at the roots.

I was a little shocked at how far this had gone. A blowie on
a second date was hardly scandalous, but we were playing, bruising, hair
pulling and I was about to pull a pretty… well…
dommy
move.

But I felt totally confident that it would go over just
fine.

I’d been planning to sleep with him, because it had been a
while and he was good looking, hung, and sweet, but now things had gotten
intense. Playing submission with no conversation on a second date? There was a
thrill factor there that was going to be very hard to explain to Hailey and
Noah of normal-quiet-and-
marriedville
.

Dieter was keening with want now, and I
was
loving
every second of it. The way I wanted him when I peeled the blue
lace away from his body was sinful and the sound he made when I wrapped my lips
around his cock was absolution.

The smell of him here was thick, concentrated, still clean
and soapy, but with a headier concentration of that part of the smell that just
seemed to be coming from him. It was a warm, nearly spicy scent that overwhelmed
my senses as I carefully opened my jaw to take him further into my mouth.

I was moving slow. A little bit because it had been a while,
a little bit because Dieter was not small in the pants department.

Mostly to hear him gasp and swear.

“
Fuuuuhhhccckkkk
,” he moaned when
I started running my tongue over the head of his cock while I moved the tight
ring of my mouth up and down his cock. “Fuck, you are good at this.”

I fought down the urge to laugh, decided not to bother. I
pulled up to the tip of his cock, kept my lips around just the head, and
pressed them in just under the thick ridge of his
glans
while I ran my tongue back and forth over the slit, tasting the salty, bitter
fluid that covered it.

His hands tightened in my hair again and he pulled my head
back, not hard, not suddenly, but irresistibly. My head had been pulled back
far enough that I was looking him in the eye, but not far enough that my mouth
wasn’t still around his cock. I was wet and panting too, at the sudden slight
shift in the balance of control.

“Roxanne…” Dieter gasped. “Roxanne, please, please.”

I sucked. He groaned. I pulled off with a pop. “Are you
close?”

His hands tightened even further in my hair.

“Yeah,” He answered breathlessly.

“You ready to come?” I asked again, flicking my tongue over
his cock again, one quick tease of flesh on flesh. He hissed again and tugged
me back from his groin by my hair, hard enough that it hurt this time.

“Yeah,” he repeated. I tried to move my head down, his hand
in my hair holding me back for a moment before he let me go. And then I threw
all my best moves out at once. I pumped my mouth over his cock, massaged his
balls and just as I felt his body start to really wrench tight I pulled off.

He groaned. I tucked his wet, red, throbbing cock back into
the panties and pushed his tight balls up into his body.

He muttered a long loud string of garbled nonsense
punctuated by the occasional “shit”.

Thick, white come pumped through the holes in the dark blue
lace, shocking white against the deep blue, like the first morning you wake up
to a snow-covered landscape and suddenly everything is just white, white,
white
.

We’d known each other for two weeks and I’d just let him
pull me around by my hair, and then forced him to a ruined orgasm in his
panties. And he was staring at me like I was a miracle.

“I think I’m ready for that second time at bat now,” I told
him, sitting up and dropping back into my previous spot on the couch. He was
still gaping at me a little bit and I felt just an edge of fear that I’d pushed
over a line that we hadn’t even taken the time to set. He nodded.
Gulped.

“I’m… my…I’m wet and covered in come,” he managed.

“Then you better get me off again before it gets cold,” I
answered. The deep huskiness of my whisper surprised me, but Dieter practically
growled as he sunk back to the floor, threw my legs apart and went to work. I
came just as hard again,
then
sent him to the bathroom
to clean up a little while I kicked the couch down into the bed. Dieter came
back to bed totally naked. I blew him for real, while he knotted his hands in
my hair and rubbed his fingers in little circles on my scalp. We collapsed into
bed, spent and satisfied. I tucked myself against his chest and he pulled my
blankets around us.

I felt warm and content and tired. And just a little
concerned about how easily and quickly we’d clicked. The last time I had been…
dommy with a guy like this had been with Isaiah, and there had been a long
involved conversation about limits beforehand.

This had just happened. And for all the 50 Shades shit out
there, that’s not really how it was supposed to work.

His hands were back in my hair, stroking and massaging my
scalp. Gentle and calm again. I was tracing nonsense shapes across his bare
chest, stopping every once in a while to trace the lines of his tattoo.

I was very close to falling asleep when he finally said
“So…” softly.

“So…” I mimicked.

“The underwear thing.
You… didn’t actually say that
you were okay with that. Not in so many words.”

Dammit
. Why did I have to have a
thing for the smart ones?

“Why do you wear it?” I asked.

“Umm…” His hands carded through my hair. He pressed a kiss
to my temple. I sighed and nuzzled my cheek against his firm chest.
“A lot of reasons.
And kind of a weird
story.”

“I’m listening.”